Who the Dragon Heeds
by Kitsuneko
Summary: A story centering around a weyrling class, from Hatching until graduation. What do you do when you Impress? What if you DON'T Impress? Why do dragons Impress some people and not others? Romance, angst, humor, a little bit of everything.
1. A Look at the Candidates

Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern belongs to Anne McCaffery, I make no claim to own it. This is a work of fanfiction which I make absolutely no money from. Though the world is borrowed, the plot and characters are all mine.

(A/N: This would be, sort of, my first foray into Pern fanfiction. It's been a while since I read the books, so I would appreciate it, if you spot an error, that you point it out to me.

I should warn you all that I'm horrible at updating, so updates will probably be sporadic at best.)

(A/N 2: Edited. I've revised and rewritten the chapter, thanks to some helpful tips from my reviewer and beta-reader, AnimeEyeshime. Thank you!

Again. And _more _edits thanks to astrokath's advice, but these are all minor/grammar things and shouldn't require you to reread it again to understand anything. )

* * *

**Who the Dragon Heeds**

**Chapter One-A Look at the Candidates**

"After hatching, dragons grow at a phenomenal rate and must be oiled often. After the first year or so, their growth will begin to taper off, reaching their final…" The instructor's voice echoed through the lecture-room, a large area filled with rows of stone benches, currently being used for candidate's lessons. The Candidate Master droned on in his sleep-inducing voice, not noticing that most of the candidates were no longer paying attention. A girl in the back was snoring quietly, and several other candidates were leaning against the wall or each other, eyes closed, or whispering gossip to each other.

There was one girl, however, who seemed to be paying attention to the instructor. She was sitting straight up on her seat, sharp brown eyes fixed on the old Candidate Master. She had light brown skin, and long black hair that reached far beyond her shoulders, even though it would have to be cut if she Impressed.

Danak thought she was the type of girl who would answer every question asked of her correctly, had wowed the harpers in her home Hold with her knowledge and perfect manners, and probably prided herself on her ability to stay awake throughout one of the Candidate Master's infamous speeches. In other words, a know-it-all and teacher's pet.

Danak caught the girl's eye, who returned his stare from the corner of her eye. He made a face at the girl, but she just frowned slightly disapprovingly, never moving her head from the direction of the instructor, and started ignoring him.

He made a grimace, and Danak turned back to where his friend Kelthere was sitting with his head propped up with one hand, staring into space. Kelthere's long, slightly shaggy black hair was, as usual, a total mess, as he hardly ever combed it-not that Danak's was much different in that regard; Danak's hair was just shorter, and a lighter color.

Danak was bored-not a hard feat to accomplish; he had an extremely short attention span-so nudged Kelthere to get his attention. Kelthere craned his head around, fixing brown eyes on the other boy. Learning forward, and making sure the Candidate Master wasn't looking at them, (not that it mattered, he doubted the old man would notice anyway) Danak whispered, "We're wasting the day away in here. Wanna go do something _productive_ with our time?"

Kelthere's answer was a wide grin, and he looked around quickly, to make sure no one was watching them. One person was, another candidate their age who was sitting on the other side of the room, his back leaning against the stony wall. Daradox was one they both knew well, and he was staring at them with an inquiring look on his face.

Not wanting to draw attention by speaking out loud, Kelthere gestured to the other candidate, jerking his head towards the entranceway and mouthing, '_Wanna come?'_

Daradox looked incredulous, rolling his eyes with a shake of his head, but even then he had a slight smile on his face.

Kelthere shrugged slightly. _Suit yourself, _he thought silently to himself as he and Danak stood up slowly, crouching over to not attract their teacher's attention. Daradox ignored them, training his eyes on the instructor, or perhaps the girl in the middle of the room who was scowling at them while trying not to look in their direction.

Sneaking out proved to be absurdly easy; they'd been sitting in the back corner of the room near the door, and the Candidate Master never even looked their way. A few of the other candidates watched them leave, but didn't say anything; in fact, a few clearly wanted to go with them, but didn't want to risk it.

Once outside, the boys raced down the halls of the Lower Caverns laughing. "I didn't think I'd be able to take anymore of his endless droning, it was driving me insane," Danak said.

"I gave up listening to his lectures a week after I came here. Anyway, I think he's run out of lectures, he's started repeating them."

That was because no one had expected the clutch in the Hatching Ground to take so long to hatch. It was two sevendays late already, and some of the weyrfolk were starting to get nervous. And by all rights, Danak and Kelthere should have been among them. As two of the oldest candidates standing, at eighteen and nineteen respectively, this would be their last chance to Impress, since the Weyr's other queen wasn't due to rise for around another two turns, and by then they would be too old to stand. They were both confident, though, that they would Impress.

The laughter died as their thoughts turned to the impending Hatching. "How much longer will it take?" Kelthere asked with a frown, his shoulders slouching as he shuffled along the hall.

Danak shrugged as he answered, "I don't know, but it's got to be soon. None of the other clutches took this long to hatch; it'll be any day now." Danak had been searched when he was thirteen and had stood for several clutches already, while Kelthere had been searched more recently, a few months ago, when candidates had begun to be brought in for the senior queen's clutch now in the Hatching Ground. The shy then-eighteen-turn-old had never been outside of his small fishing Hold before, and Danak had quickly taken the other candidate under his wing. Kelthere had flourished in the Weyr atmosphere, and he enjoyed being around the laid-back weyrfolk and the friends he had made among the other candidates. When he came here, he had made an oath that he would never return to that fishing Hold, if he could help it.

Kelthere was dragged out of his thoughts when the Headwoman appeared suddenly in the hall front of them. She grinned widely at them, a knowing gleam in her eye. "Candidate's class over early today? Good, just what I need, two strong lads to help carry goods. Another tithe caravan just came in, full of black rock from the mines, by the look of it." She took the two candidates by the arms, as if she thought they would run, and led them along to the Weyr entrance where the caravan was gathered.

Kelthere and Danak groaned as they were dragged away to chores. _Maybe we should have stayed in class after all, _Kelthere thought.

* * *

Fylippa didn't bother to hide her scowl of disapproval when she noticed the two boys sneak out of the candidacy class. The nerve of them, walking out in the middle of a lecture! It was galling to her that nobody around them had tried to stop them, and the instructor hadn't even noticed.

Such reckless insubordination would never have been tolerated in the Hold in Crom where she had grown up. She felt the quick burst of pride and relief she had experienced ever since she had been searched for the clutch, and felt a stab of guilt for doing so, having left her family behind to come here. She almost hadn't accepted the search, but she felt that she had to prove she was dragonrider-material, that she was worthy, if only to herself.

Ignoring the fact that she was the only one paying attention anymore, she sat in rapt attention for the rest of the lesson.

They were finally released from the Candidate Master's lecture. There was an instant surge of bodies rushing for the exit as soon as the Candidate Master dismissed them. Fylippa stood up with the rest, moving out of the way as a smaller candidate pushed past her with a mumbled apology, racing for the door. A bigger group of candidates barreled past her for the exit, and she went to stand, back against the wall, out of the way. Another candidate was hanging back as well, and he caught her eye with a smile.

He was tall and dark-skinned, largely built without being overweight, and his black hair was extremely curly where it hung around his face. "Hey," he smiled in greeting. "I think I've seen you around. Fylippa, right?"

Fylippa nodded, suddenly self-conscious as she toyed with a lock of her own long, dark hair. "Yes."

"My name is Daradox, a candidate for Moraughoth's clutch-obviously." The boy-he looked to be about eighteen, actually-grinned ruefully.

Fylippa followed him out of the lecture-room, feeling shy and a little nervous. "I hope Danak and Kelthere didn't bother you too much," Daradox said.

That made Fylippa pause. "Wha-? Oh! The two who snuck out during the lecture? You know them?"

He started playing with the locks of hair curling around his ear, looking sheepish. "Yeah, I guess you could say we're friends. They can be kind of… crazy and spontaneous, as you can no doubt tell, but they're really nice guys. I've known Danak since I came here two turns ago, and Kelthere since _he_ came here."

"You've been here that long?" Fylippa asked wistfully as they strolled through the Lower Caverns. "I was only searched about a month ago…"

"Yeah, I've stood for two clutches already, so I'm used to the Weyr." Daradox favored her with a bright smile. "Don't worry, you'll feel at home before you know it."

Finally, Fylippa began to smile. It was surprising to her how outgoing and friendly Daradox was; or perhaps it was just because she had never gotten along too well with people her own age before. She could tell that the two of them were on their way to becoming good friends, which made her smile all the more.

* * *

Manoric may have been one of the younger and smaller candidates, but he'd grown used to chasing after runnerbeasts in the Beasthold where he grew up, and he was a fast runner. This was important, since he was currently being chased by three of the much older candidates-Falkyr and two of his cronies.

Falkyr was widely regarded among the candidates as a bully and an arrogant snit, albeit a handsome one according to the girls. Few of the other candidates got along with him, but he was good at sucking up to the adult riders so rarely got in trouble.

Manoric, having become well-acquainted with Falkyr in the two months since his search, had started running as soon as he saw the older candidate and his goons heading for him after the day's lecture ended. One of Falkyr's friends laughed in his wake as he broke out in a run. "You better practice running, brat! Maybe you can catch a dragon, come Hatching Day!"

Falkyr smiled grimly at that, though neither he nor his companions moved to chase after him yet. Instead, he leaned casually against the wall just outside the lecture-room with his arms crossed on his chest. "Even if he could catch one, it'd probably bite his hand off for daring to touch it." He shook his head with a grin. "Come on, I'm not through with him yet." He straightened his long body, the crony-candidates on either side of him shuffling ahead after their prey.

Outside, Manoric sighed to himself in relief as he slumped against the massive stone side of the Weyr Bowl. He seemed to have lost Falkyr and his friends.

"What's got you so worked up, Manoric?" Manoric looked up to see Danak and Kelthere staring at him curiously. Judging by their faces and clothes smudged in black dust, and the weary slump of their shoulders, they had obviously been working with black rock.

"N-Nothing. It's nothing." Manoric stammered a reply, feeling a blush creeping around his ears. Faranth, but he hated looking like a weakling around older candidates, even if it was only Danak and Kelthere.

The two candidates obviously didn't believe him. "Was it Falkyr again?" Kelthere asked, rolling his eyes scornfully.

The younger boy ducked his head. "He said I'd have to catch a dragon to Impress," he mumbled.

Danak, for one, was clearly not impressed by the bully's wit. "You'd think he'd be able to come up with better insults than that, wouldn't you?" He muttered to Kelthere.

Kelthere grinned at his friend and tried to reassure the fourteen-turn-old candidate. "Nah, I'll bet he feels threatened because you have a better chance of Impressing bronze than he does." Manoric raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Really!"

"Yeah, just make sure you leave a couple of bronzes for us, too," Danak said with a laugh.

Manoric finally smiled a little. "You two are more likely to Impress than I am," he insisted. "You're...older, more experienced..." More confident. "Everyone says you're bound to be chosen, the two of you."

Kelthere waved it off, though he looked pleased at the compliment. "Age or experience has nothing to do with it, from what I've heard, and besides, it's my first time standing, too."

With a glance up at the sky, Danak broke in. "You know, I'll bet it's almost dinnertime by now. We'd better go get ready. All that work's made me hungry," he pointed out.

Manoric wrinkled his nose. "And wash up while you're at it," he said pointedly, causing both boys to grimace at him.

"Cheeky blighter..." Danak grumbled and sniffed. "Meh. We probably need it anyway; come on, Kelthere."

Manoric barely withheld a grin as the older candidates left, but once they were out of sight, another group appeared from the main entrance of the Weyr, making his face pale.

"There you are, brat." Falkyr and his sidekicks stood framed in the Weyr's entranceway, and then they started to close in on him. Manoric took a few nervous steps sideways along the wall away from them. "Worried about the Hatching?" Falkyr asked with a dark grin.

Manoric sighed silently. Why couldn't they leave him alone? "Why, afraid I'll get a bronze and there won't be any left for you?" He shot back before thinking he might have been better off keeping his mouth shut.

The cronies on either side of him growled and cracked their knuckles threateningly, but Falkyr didn't appear bothered; in fact, he seemed amused, if anything. "Actually, I was thinking that if you practice_ real _hard, you might be able to avoid the hungry hatchlings' jaws long enough to attract a green or blue. Or maybe just long enough to get away from the Sands in one piece, anyway."

"I don't know," Manoric eyed his goons, "I think you and your friends would be more suited for that. A pair of greens just might match their intellect." Stop it, stop it, you dimglow…

The goons were really angry now, and even Falkyr looked slightly annoyed. All it took was a slight nod of his head towards the younger candidate. "Get him."

Manoric took off. He knew insulting them wasn't the smartest thing he could have done. He never had been too good at holding his tongue, but at least he knew there was one thing he could do, and do well. He really _was _a good runner.

* * *

"Ah! I can't wait until this clutch finally hatches," Coyota exclaimed, sorting through the many clothes laid out on her bed. Syderi was still amazed that the weyrbred girl had so many dresses when she only needed one for the Hatching Feast.

Almost guiltily, she looked over at her own space, where all her clothes were stuffed together in a sturdy trunk at the foot of her bed, with a beautiful gown for the Feast at the very bottom of the pile.

Right now, the girls had the female barracks to themselves, as most of the other girls were out and about in the Weyr. There were quite a few girls standing this time around, though Coyota had stated authoritatively that for most Hatchings, no more than a handful of girls chose to stand, and it was only the allure of a queen egg that had brought out so many this time around. Syderi supposed the recent Pass had dissuaded most girls from Impressing fighting dragons.

Coyota was tall and well-built, weyrbred through and through. She was not the least bit shy, either, growing up around dragonriders, and she had become a font of knowledge for the other girls. It was easy to see she'd be popular among the males; she had deep, dark red hair in a braid, currently pulled over her shoulder, and her peculiar blue-green eyes drew many interested stares to the unconventional beauty. Right now, she was rearranging her collection of clothes and trying to decide which dress to wear to the Hatching Feast.

From the other bed, Nystai sighed and replied to Coyota's earlier comment. "I can. I get sweaty just thinking about standing on those sands, watching the dragons hatch with everyone looking at me. _And_, I don't see how I could possibly show up to the Hatching Feast in this dress. It looks _horrible_ on me." She glanced with disgust at the sleek green dress currently draped over her own trunk.

She was a large girl and very self-conscious. Not that she wasn't pretty; her fluffy, chestnut brown hair hung in soft locks to her shoulders, and Syderi was almost jealous of her perfect, unblemished skin.

Coyota scoffed, "Standing's not so bad, the Hatching's over before you know it, whether you Impress or not. And if you don't like it, why did you buy that dress?" she asked in exasperation.

Nystai just shrugged and mumbled something that sounded like, "Looked better before I tried it on..."

Coyota continued smoothing out non-existent wrinkles on her gowns as she replied, "Well…" She sighed. "If you want, I can lend you one of my dresses for the Hatching Feast. I'm sure I have one or two that should fit you." Even as she said it, she looked reluctant to part with one of her gowns, and Syderi almost laughed aloud. She wouldn't have believed the girl capable of such generosity when she'd first met her, but the capricious Coyota had grown on her during her time in candidacy.

"Really?" Nystai brightened up instantly. "Oh, that would help me _so _much!"

"What about you, Syderi? Do you have a dress for the Feast yet? _Please_ say you do." Coyota directed this to the other girl in the candidate barracks, the one who had silently watched the conversation unfold between her two more talkative friends.

Syderi had grown tired of her roommates' conversation a while ago. Much as she loved her friends, their preoccupation with clothes could be a little trying at times. She looked up from where she lay on her bed, playing with a lock of hair. "Hmm? Oh yes, I got one sent to me from my parents two sevendays ago," she explained, thinking again of the dress at the bottom of her trunk.

She was quite taken with the dress, actually, even though she'd never admit it. She loved the way the dress looked against her brown-blond hair, and even her freckle-splashed skin (faint though they were, she'd always hated the way they looked) couldn't detract from the dress's elegance. In the first couple of days since she got it, she'd pulled it out several times a day just to look at it, until she felt silly obsessing over it and put it away in the bottom of her trunk.

"Why haven't we seen it, then?" Coyota asked, looking put out. "Keeping it a secret to surprise some boy?" she grinned teasingly.

That made Syderi laugh out loud. "I wasn't aware there were any guys _worth_ impressing around here."

Coyota snorted. "You'd find some, if you ever got out and looked around once in a while. There's plenty of eligible guys around."

"Like Falkyr!" Nystai giggled.

Syderi wrinkled her nose distastefully and shook her head. "He didn't strike me as a very nice person, though."

"Well, he's no good for a serious relationship, but...let's just say I wouldn't mind if his dragon caught my dragon someday." Coyota smirked, and then she tilted her head thoughtfully. "And then there's Danak and Kelthere, though they do tend to be a bit immature, considering they're both almost too old to Impress…"

Syderi frowned, thinking about them. Danak had been pointed out to her once, and she's seen him and his friend around a few times, though she'd never really talked to either of them.

A younger girl popped her head into the barracks from outside, interrupting them. "It's almost dinnertime, you know. You might want to get to the Great Hall before all the good food's gone," the dark-haired girl said with a wink before disappearing.

"Thank you, Ribala," Coyota called dryly after her.

"Good, I was getting hungry," Nystai chirped.

"You two go on ahead," Syderi said. Thinking about the dress had reminded her that she wanted to write a letter to her parents in her Hold.

Syderi stepped out of the candidate barracks a little while later, hoping she wasn't late for dinner. She raced down the hall, (feeling a little guilty for doing so, even though no one was around to reprimand her) and was startled enough that she almost ran into a young man when he ducked out of a side room. His arms caught her and steadied her before she crashed into him. Syderi blushed bright red. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there!" Obviously. She looked again at the man she'd almost knocked over, and realized with surprise that she knew him. Or, recognized him, at least.

It was Kelthere, the candidate that usually hung around Danak, the one Coyota had been talking about earlier. She almost blushed again, thinking of that.

Kelthere was average in height, only an inch or two taller than her, but muscularly built and heavily tanned, from spending lots of time outdoors, no doubt. His-slightly damp-black hair looked halfway neat for once, not sticking out everywhere like it usually did, and Syderi realized that he was handsomer close up than from a distance. She also realized he was staring at her with quizzical, dark brown eyes.

Syderi rallied herself, straightening to introduce herself. "I'm Syderi, a candidate for the clutch."

"Yeah, I think I've seen you around before. I'm Kelthere," he replied. "Late for dinner?"

"I was finishing a letter to send to my parents, but yes, I was on my way to the Great Hall."

Kelthere found himself intrigued by the girl in front of him, trying to exude confidence to hide her nervousness. It didn't hurt, of course, that she was pretty, with deep brown eyes and faint freckles, he noticed, dotting her nose and cheeks. "I was heading there myself. Come on," he led her in the direction of the Great Hall. "Looking forward to the Hatching? Think you'll Impress?"

Syderi laughed. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have accepted the search, would I? What about you?"

Kelthere reached up to ruffle the hair at the back of his head-a nervous action, Syderi thought. "I don't see any reason why I shouldn't Impress. I'll be satisfied with any dragon, of course, but I'm…kind of hoping for a bronze."

Syderi smiled at him. "Ambitious, are you? Got plans for Wingleadership?"

Kelthere returned her smile with one of his own. "What about you? Do you have your eyes on the queen egg?"

She sighed wistfully. "That would be nice, wouldn't it?" They had arrived in the Great Hall now. Syderi could see Coyota and Nystai waiting for her at their usual spot, while two male candidates, one light-skinned with messy brown hair like Kelthere's, the other dark-skinned with curly black hair, waved to Kelthere at another table.

"Well, I'll see you later," Kelthere turned to her. "Good luck on Hatching Day."

"Good luck to you, too!" Syderi replied, before striding to where Coyota and Nystai were waiting for her.

* * *

The candidates were all in the barracks by curfew that night, but few of them were asleep as of yet.

In the girl's barracks: "Do you think the clutch will hatch tomorrow?"

"Who knows, it's already late. It could hatch at any time, now."

"So what color do you think you'll Impress?"

"Green, definitely. I'm not interested in the gold, thanks."

"What?" "You're not?" "Why?" "That's okay, just means I have a better chance at it myself." Laughter.

"Syderi? What about you? Fylippa?"

"Mmm..."

"Hmmm..."

And in the boy's: "Who's going for a bronze?"

"Me! Of _course_ I'm getting a bronze!"

"Be quiet, Falkyr." "Be quiet, Falkyr." "Hey!"

"Wouldn't mind a brown, myself."

"Eh, blue for me. Who needs responsibility anyway?"

"What about you?"

"A bronze."

"Oh really?"

"...Maybe I've got aspirations of Wingleaderhood."

(A/N: There's the first chapter. Feedback of any sort would be very much appreciated, especially detailed constructive criticism. I'd also be interested in hearing what you all think about who Impresses what color (or whether they Impress at all, as the case may be). I've already got all the pairings worked out, though, so unfortunately, it won't affect what they actually end up getting.)


	2. Shattered Shells and Dreams

Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern belongs to Anne McCaffery, I make no claim to own it. This is a work of fanfiction which I make absolutely no money from. Though the world is borrowed, the plot and characters are all mine.

(A/N: Here's the second chapter. Fun! Thank you to my beta-reader, AnimeEyeshime.

FYI: This story takes place a few years after the end of the Second Pass, BTW)

* * *

**Who the Dragon Heeds**

**Chapter Two-Shattered Shells and Dreams**

The next day dawned dark and overcast, yet strangely, an air of excitement pervaded the Weyr. The cause wasn't immediately evident, but even the candidates-perhaps especially the candidates-knew that something was going to happen today.

Kelthere didn't know what was going on, though he sensed something different upon waking up, but he continued with his typical morning routine as usual. Get out of bed with the rest of the candidates, take a quick bath, dress and go to the Great Hall to _really_ wake up with a cup of klah. He noticed that several of the older riders were tense-echoing, he supposed, their dragons' restlessness today. He remarked on it to Danak, "Why d'you suppose the dragons seem so wound up today?"

Danak simply shrugged, having no idea what was going on either.

A low and distant thrumming made itself felt more than heard. All over the Great Hall, heads raised, and suddenly, everyone was moving, half-eaten breakfasts forgotten. Kelthere looked on perplexedly. "What's-"

Danak, though, was tugging at his sleeve and hissed urgently, "That's the dragons! They're humming. That means the clutch is hatching!"

Kelthere gaped, and then both boys raced out of the Great Hall, back to the candidate barracks for their robes. No doubt the rest of the candidates were already getting ready and making their way to the Hatching Ground. They'd have to hurry.

The news spread through the Weyr...

* * *

In the girls' barracks, the female candidates were huddled in groups when the humming started, and several gasped in surprise. Nystai stood in shock and wrung her hands. "Oh dear, what do we do? How long do we have?"

Several other girls spoke up with similar concerns. "What do we do to attract the queen?" "What if I don't Impress?" "How many people will be _watching_ us?" "What will I _wear_?"

Syderi, as well as several other candidates, turned to stare at the girl who said the last one. "We have candidacy robes," she pointed out, exasperated.

"Yes, but I mean under it!"

Syderi rolled her eyes and went to join Nystai, still wringing her hands nervously, and Coyota, who was pacing back and forth the length of the barracks. Syderi threw a tight-lipped smile at them, while Coyota nodded curtly in reply. "We need to hurry up and get ready. No time to sit around worrying our heads off," the weyrbred girl said.

They all exchanged nervous smiles, then there was an awkward silence as they all stared at each other. Nystai spoke up, "Well...good luck."

The others echoed her sentiments.

* * *

The thrum rose in pitch until it became a true humming. In the boys' barracks, the candidates all made a dash for the white candidacy robes hanging from pegs along one wall.

Manoric was nearly crushed by the press of bodies around him until he couldn't move. Falkyr, pushing through the crowd with his two cronies, knocking him to the ground as they went, certainly didn't help matters. He gingerly picked himself up off the ground as the other candidates filtered out of the barracks. This wasn't turning out to be a good day.

His robe was one of the last ones left on the wall, and he'd have to run to keep from being left behind, but if that was what it took to Impress a dragon, so be it.

She was sure her hair was a mess, and her clothes were wrinkled. Fylippa was amazed that in a time like this, her appearance was most on her mind. She felt curiously detached as she walked to the Hatching Ground, as though viewing herself from afar. She wrung a hand through her hair nervously, feeling sick to her stomach.

Daradox's hand found hers, walking beside her, and he smiled encouragingly when she met his eyes. "Don't worry, it'll be over before you know it, and you'll be a dragonrider before the day's over." He touched her chin. "I know it."

* * *

"Almost half of the clutch will be greens, but there's only the one gold. If you're too focused on the queen egg, you'll shut out the greens, and you might well miss a chance at Impression," Coyota was saying to the crowd of nervous girls following her through the hallways of the Lower Caverns, passing on tips gleaned from generations of dragonriding relatives.

"But then you might end up Impressing before the queen even hatches, and you'll never even get a shot at her," one of the girls, Ribala, pointed out.

Several of the girls exchanged nervous looks.

"Well, that's for you to decide. Which is more important to you?" Syderi reasoned, and wondered at the answer herself.

* * *

The humming grew ever higher and louder. "Keep your mind open with thoughts of love and acceptance. Don't think of what color you want to Impress, and keep anger, jealousy, and sadness out of your mind. It'll just drive them away. Just love and acceptance," Danak recited as they strode to the Hatching Ground.

"I _know_, Danak, I have been in candidacy classes for the past six months," Kelthere replied testily.

And suddenly, they were there. The Hatching Ground stretched in front of them, covered in sands heated almost to scorching level and surrounded by rows of stone seats filling up with riders and non-weyrfolk finding seats to watch the Hatching. Kelthere automatically drew in a breath. The senior queen Moraughoth crouched in the center of the sandy area, amongst a clutch of twenty-six rocking, mottled eggs. She looked upset, hissing irately at anyone who came too close to her eggs while trying to keep up the humming at the same time. Her rider went to try to calm her while the candidates stood a respectful distance away.

The stands were filled with people, talking to each other, yelling encouragements to their favored candidate, or weeping, and Kelthere tried to ignore them as best he could. Instead, he turned his attention to the furiously rocking eggs, as the Weyrwoman, Cheaden, managed to persuade her dragon to let the candidates approach.

Kelthere realized he'd actually grown used to the dragons' constant welcoming hum in the background, but now it stopped suddenly as a total hush fell over the Weyr. With a deceptively light 'pop', the first dragon hatched.

It was a sturdy brown hatchling, falling to the ground amongst the shards of his shell. The young male shook his head, then climbed clumsily to his feet. Kelthere's heart was thudding in his ears as he watched the dragonet wandering aimlessly over the sands, so tense he could barely stand it. It finally stopped in front of one of the candidates, a younger one Kelthere didn't know by name, who dropped tearfully to his knees as Impression was made.

Disappointed but trying to relax, Kelthere tried to clear his mind of all thoughts except love and acceptance, as he'd been told. It was nearly impossible. The entire time, he wondered, _Is this one mine? Is it heading my way? Which one's for me? _Now more eggs were hatching.

The girls were all huddled intently around the queen egg, still rocking gently with no signs of cracking just yet, but all over the sands, green dragonets were hatching. A few were Impressed by willing boys, but many of them seemed unsatisfied with the male candidates, and clumsily made their way to where the girls were standing. One girl almost fell over when a green hatchling bumped the back of her knees from behind. Previously so intent on the queen egg, she now turned around and lifted her eyes to the green's. Her knees buckled under her, and she fell almost on top of the distressed dragonet. She could be heard reassuring her dragon that she was okay, they were together now, and she was the most beautiful green dragon there'd ever been.

Coyota and Nystai watched the green's Impression while trying to keep one eye on the gold egg. Nystai eyed the girl and her green wistfully, and looked hopefully at another green still unImpressed. Coyota glanced uncertainly from the golden egg to the green crying loudly now, clearly unsure whether to stay or go. But while she didn't move, Nystai stepped forward hesitantly, trying to get the green's attention. Seeing the movement, the green immediately stopped her crying and stared at Nystai with rapidly swirling eyes; then it was the girl crying and half-sitting, half-falling down to embrace the hatchling. "Oh, Polaenth! I'm here!" She laughed and continued to repeat that phrase, "I'm here" as she helped the dragon stumble her way off the sands.

There were too many eggs hatching at once now to keep track of them all. Kelthere snapped his head back and forth as first one, then another of the candidates surrounding him paired off with newly-hatched dragons._ Any second now, _he reassured himself,_ Any time now, I'll find my dragon. _He _had_ to Impress.

He wasn't the only one thinking so. Manoric stood frozen to his spot, almost too scared to breathe while dragon eggs hatched all around him. He berated himself angrily at his own helplessness. _You'll never Impress a dragon if you don't move, so move! _And just then a bronze hatched.

Time seemed to stop for a moment, as all eyes moved instantly to the bronze hatchling, who was staring at all the candidates. The male candidates stared at it hopefully. Kelthere pleaded under his breath, _Please!_ and even Falkyr was silent in amazement. Manoric watched the hatchling in trepidation, wondering what it would do.

He thought the bronze looked in his direction, and his breath hitched in his throat as he stepped forward hopefully-but then there was a strangled cry and someone knocked him aside from behind, pushing through the sea of candidates to get to the bronze, who creeled happily as Impression was made. Manoric tripped, ending up face-down in the sand, and the gritty grains were making his eyes water, that was it...He lifted his head; through blurry eyes he saw Falkyr clearly enough, kneeling beside the bronze hatchling and pronouncing his name over and over in wonderment, "Ievath...Ievath."

Manoric's hands clenched around handfuls of scalding sand, and he spat bitter grit from his mouth in disgust before climbing to his feet. He gazed around him with determination. There were plenty of other dragons hatching.

Quickly, Kelthere stifled his disappointment and astonishment that _Falkyr_, of all people, had Impressed the bronze. Instead, he focused on the other dragonets still looking for riders. More dragons were wandering the sands, including several blues and a brown or two, who had yet to Impress.

"Remember, love and acceptance," Danak piped up, appearing beside him. Kelthere was about to reply with a rueful grin, but his expression turned to one of surprise when he spotted the blue hatchling. It was struggling in the direction of the two candidates, tripping over its own sprawling limbs. Danak, seeing his face, turned around, and his shock was even stronger than Kelthere's.

The blue dragonet creeled when it saw they noticed it, and then crooned plaintively. Kelthere stepped forward hesitantly, and Danak walked straight to the hatchling, still stunned. The hatchling crooned happily when it reached Danak. Kelthere's grin faded a little when the blue had obviously chosen Danak, but when his friend glanced back at him-_Faranth, I've never seen him that happy-_he mustered a smile and a 'thumbs up' gesture. Danak returned his own 'good luck' signal, and exclaimed, "He says his name is Taimosuth!"

Kelthere was disappointed but trying not to show it. He turned his attention back to the eggs, but with an excited cry, the crowd's attention was captured by the queen egg, as it began to crack open at last. The remaining girls tried to cluster closer to the egg, but the golden mother rebuffed them with a protective snarl. Syderi and Coyota were both still unpaired, as was Fylippa and several other girls. They all stood around with various degrees of determination or nervousness on their faces, eyeing each other warily and aware that they were now in direct competition with each other.

With a final mighty shudder, the golden shell fell apart, revealing the glistening form of the newly hatched gold. All around them dragons hummed their approval, and Moraughoth hovered over her daughter protectively. With a sharp word from the Weyrwoman, however, she reluctantly backed away and allowed the female candidates to approach.

Blinking her hunger-red eyes blearily, the gold stumbled forward on unsteady legs, staring at all of the frantically beckoning candidates with bemusement. She seemed confused and unsure of where to go at first, but then her searching eyes settled on one of the candidates, and she crooned contentedly as she butted her head, gently but persistently, against her new rider's side.

The force was still enough to almost knock her over, and Syderi placed her hands on the gold hatchling in front of her to keep her balance. Then the urgent voice entered her mind, complaining about how hungry she was, and it finally started to sink in. _She had Impressed._ She was a goldrider.

'_Of course you are,'_ came the gold's thought in her mind again, _'I am yours and you are mine, that is how it should be. But now I am hungry.'_

Only then did she become aware of her surroundings again, and the other candidates around her, most of them looking crushed. Coyota, at least, looked happy for her. "What's her name, Syderi?" the girl asked with a smile.

_'My name is Feyth.' _The thought came before she could ask it.

"Feyth...she says her name is Feyth," Syderi proclaimed proudly, and then, at Feyth's insistence, she wiped tears from her eyes and helped the hatchling dragon to get something to eat.

Kelthere caught Syderi's eye as she was leaving, and he congratulated her with a smile; this time, at least, it was sincere.

The rejected queen candidates, meanwhile, were crushed, for the most part. The dark-haired Ribala collapsed in a weeping heap, tears pouring down her face so that she probably wouldn't have seen a green dragonet even if one had come her way. Coyota glanced scornfully at the girl, but then she turned her hopes to a group of four greens, newly hatched, who were approaching the female candidates. Many of the other girls turned their attention to the greens as well, walking to the distressed hatchlings determinedly.

A dark, dappled green broke away from her fellows, creeling and stumbling to one of the female candidates. The girl laughed and cried all at once, reassuring her green that no dragon, gold or no, could be better than her.

Two of the greens were heading for Coyota, in fact, but a quick-thinking girl attracted the attention of one, and the other green met Coyota's gaze. Relieved and elated, Coyota Impressed the dragon, shouting her joy to the spectators, "Her name is Oritith!" The other green Impressed quickly and quietly to a shy girl, but Coyota paid no attention.

Disappointed though she was at being passed over by the gold, Fylippa steered her determination and efforts to attracting the attention of the greens. The four appeared to all be paired off, though, and she sighed in disappointment.

"Fylippa!" The shout of her name made her raise her head, and she saw Daradox waving to her from across the Hatching Ground. It appeared that he had not Impressed yet either. She met him halfway across the sands, while he was trying to reassure her, "It's not over yet."

And she grinned, pointing to the egg shells, "No, it's not." A pair of dragonets had climbed out of their shells, and were now making their way toward Fylippa and Daradox together, running awkwardly, as if their riders were going to be snatched up if they didn't get there. The pair of candidates gasped, so intent on each other that they hadn't noticed the dragons. The chocolate-colored brown sat by Daradox, gazing up at him with a peculiar mixture of love and accusation, while the green hatchling rushed to Fylippa, keening until she buried her head in the girl's arms.

"I-I'm sorry, I'll never ignore you like that again," Daradox stammered, reassuring his brown bond, who was unwilling to let his new rider out of his sight. Fylippa was overcome by a mishmash of emotions-- love, shock, fear, and hunger from both herself and her new dragon, and she couldn't say anything at all.

Daradox glanced up at her, grinning wildly, and she easily returned it. They both spoke at the same time.

"This is Coendeth."

"Her name is Asatarth."

Empty shards from mottled shells littered the sands, now. It seemed ages since the hatching had started, and yet it could only have been minutes. Already, many of the candidates had paired off, and it seemed no eggs were left unhatched. Kelthere still stood, desperately casting his eyes about for any unpaired dragons, and trying to keep panic out of his mind. He refused to give up._ There has to be a bronze, or a brown, that hasn't Impressed yet. The Hatching's not over yet. There's still-_ And there it was, a brown hatchling that had been mostly forgotten in the confusion of Hatching. He ran to it in relief, but other unImpressed candidates were doing the same; he recognized faces in a blur-Manoric, a candidate named Rydah, Falkyr's two sidekicks. Creeling in distress, the dragonet swung its head-_I'm over here. Here!_-and then seemed to relax and started crooning as it found its rider. It stumbled forward-and then past Kelthere, past the other candidates he recognized, to another candidate he hadn't even noticed, who collapsed in front of the hatchling, staring at it in wonder.

Overcome with shock, Kelthere felt a curious detachment from his body. This couldn't be the end. There had to be another...But all the eggs were shattered heaps now, all the dragons standing on wobbling legs beside their chosen boy or girl, twenty-six of them._ This can't be happening,_ he thought as he collapsed. But it was. He hadn't Impressed.

(A/N: Falkyr's dragon's name is 'ievath', with a capital 'i'. Sorry, it's easily confusing.

Feedback would be very much appreciated, whether the detailed crit kind or a simple one-liner. Heck, just rate the story from 1-10, if nothing else. Let me know how I'm doing.)


	3. The Post Hatching Feast

Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern belongs to Anne McCaffery, I make no claim to own it. This is a work of fanfiction which I make absolutely no money from. Though the world is borrowed, the plot and characters are all mine.

(A/N: Many thanks to my beta reader, AnimeEyeshime

I am _so_ sorry for how late this is, my beta reader and I both kinda forgot about it for awhile. I still haven't written the fourth chapter, but I'm hoping to get back to writing soon. I'm in college now, and while I don't think I'll have any lack of time for writing, it may be a bit of a problem getting it onto the computer, so bear with me, please.)

* * *

**Who the Dragon Heeds**

**Chapter Three-The Hatching Feast**

The Post-Hatching Feast was inevitably a celebration to be remembered. Lots of good food, good music (provided by harpers invited for the feast), and the prospect of new dragons for the Weyr put just about everyone in a good mood. Even the candidates who had not Impressed, always invited to the feast anyway, often found their spirits lifted.

The newly-Impressed riders' first duty was to feed their dragons and then get them into the weyrling barracks to sleep. After that, they were allowed to join the feast. The weyrling barracks were a great deal larger than the candidate barracks, to accommodate quickly growing dragons, and there were raised wooden platforms beside each weyrlings' bed, to serve as a bed for the dragon during their stay there.

Syderi was almost reluctant to leave Feyth alone in her bed, even though the gold was curled up comfortably and fast asleep. Still, she changed quickly into her dress, (it was still beautiful, but could she help it if she was preoccupied?) and made her way to the Great Hall, which would no doubt be where all the riders and guests would be gathered.

The Great Hall had been lavishly decorated for the occasion, and extra tables brought in to accommodate all the guests that had filled it to overcrowding. Even so, everyone seemed to be having a good time, eating, dancing, or mingling with each other and the new riders.

Syderi quickly sought out Coyota and Nystai, both looking radiant in their Feast Gowns (or perhaps it was because they were still basking in the after-effects of Impression). Coyota spotted her entrance first. "Syderi!" She waved her over with one hand, the other grasping a glass of red wine.

Coyota smiled broadly at her friend. "Congratulations on Impressing the gold, by the way."

"Thanks." Syderi smiled. "What's yours named?"

"Oririth, and I wouldn't trade her for anything," Coyota said with another wide grin.

"Mine's Polaenth," Nystai spoke up with a smile.

"Coyota!" They heard a shout, and the weyrbred girl was caught up in a hug from a burly older man with cropped, dark brown hair.

"Ack! W'ulf, put me down!" Coyota yelped, clearly irritated with the man. He did so, and she set down her cup on the nearest table before grumbling, "you almost made me spill wine on my new dress, and then where would I have been?"

"In your room, picking out one of your other numerous dresses, no doubt," the rider replied without missing a beat. He picked up her discarded wine glass, raised it in the direction of the girls in a toast, and drained it. "You, my dear cousin, have just made me fifteen marks richer. I congratulate you on Impressing a green."

Coyota looked far from pleased. "What, you didn't expect me to Impress the gold?"

W'ulf rolled his eyes. "But you Impressed a lovely green. Aren't you happy with that?"

"Of course I am, I love her. But you're family, you're supposed to have more faith in me than that," Coyota scowled.

"Oh, come on now, Coyota. You're being contrary just for the sake of being so. I have to say it was rather obvious what you'd Impress." Syderi privately agreed with him, and he shrugged contemplatingly. "That's the way with Hatchings. Some Impressions you can see coming a mile away, others will downright surprise you. For example, I lost five marks on Kelthere Impressing bronze. Quite disappointing, that. If anyone Impressed, I'd have thought it'd be him."

Syderi's stomach turned at the news. "Kelthere didn't Impress?" Coyota and Nystai looked almost as surprised as she felt.

"No. Apparently he collapsed at the end. The heat does that to some people. He should be fine now, though," he reassured them, seeing the concerned looks on their faces. "Well, I've got to go. Other people to see, you know how it is. Coyota, your mother's looking for you. Wants to coo and fuss over you, I suspect, then show you off to all her friends," he said with a wink to Coyota.

Coyota scowled. "Shards! Oh well, I suppose I might as well go and get it over with. Bye, Syderi, Nystai." She walked off to find the rest of her family. W'ulf nodded to Nystai, "Greenrider," then did a slight bow for Syderi, "Goldrider."

Syderi blinked as he walked off, still unused to the title. She didn't have long to dwell on it, or Kelthere, because another couple of riders were approaching.

She didn't recognize them straight off, though she felt she should have. The woman was a few turns older than her, probably in her early twenties. She was more striking than pretty, but she had soft blond hair to her shoulders and bright blue eyes. Her companion was a ruggedly handsome man, tall and well-built, with dark brown hair and mesmerizing deep green eyes.

The woman greeted them with a smile. "Congratulations on your Impression. I'm the junior weyrwoman, Alerra; my dragon is gold Vesengarth."

Her companion spoke up as well, "And I'm B'nor, rider of bronze Zhayth. Likewise, congratulations." She wondered why she hadn't recognized at least the weyrwoman, and Syderi figured she must have been more preoccupied lately than she thought. "Syderi, my gold is Feyth."

Then Nystai replied with her name and dragon, but interrupted herself with a yawn. She blushed brightly, looking mortified at herself.

B'nor smiled and leaned forward conspiracally before telling her, "Don't worry, the first week's probably the worst. After that, you sort of figure out a routine, and classes get interesting, too." He winked at Nystai.

"Well, I've come to tell you that the Weyrleaders are on their way over here. They like to meet the new riders personally, especially since you're a goldrider," Alerra said, directing the last at Syderi. She smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Cheaden and G'sar are no one to be afraid of. Just treat them with respect and you should get along fine."

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the gold and bronzeriders moved away, and Nystai sighed wistfully, staring after B'nor.

Privately, Syderi thought that the bronzerider seemed too much a careless charmer, but she figured it was none of her concern who Nystai developed a crush on. The new goldrider was beginning to get tired herself, but now she could see the Weyrleaders slowly making their way towards her, and steadied herself for a long night.

* * *

For turns, he had dreamed of this day. Dreamed of what it would be like, Impressing a bronze dragon, being surrounded by friends and admirers, with his family congratulating him on his success. Now that it was here, was it how he'd always thought it would be?

Yes, it was almost exactly the way he'd imagined it.

"Hah hah! That's my boy, Falkyr. I knew you'd Impress bronze! Didn't I say he'd Impress bronze this time around?" His father was the same big, blustery man as ever, already a cup and a half into his wine.

Falkyr's father had never appeared prouder of his oldest son, and with every reason; Falkyr had Impressed bronze, the only one in the clutch, and in doing so had surpassed even his father, a brownrider.

"Don't forget, it's F'kyr now, Father," the new bronzerider said, thinking of his slumbering dragon with a smile. And for once it was a true smile, not his normal sarcastic grin or smirk.

His father guffawed. "Right you are, lad. F'kyr."

F'kyr. He'd spent years trying to get to where he was today, ever since he'd been old enough to stand at the dragon clutch. And stand he had, many times, for many different clutches. Kelthere wasn't the only one who'd had one last chance to Impress; F'kyr's twentieth birthday was only four months away. He'd almost begun to think he wouldn't Impress at all, but for the constant support of his family and his own stubborn single-mindedness. And finally, it _had_ paid off. A wonderful bronze dragon had chosen _him, _just as he'd always known, somehow. He could barely keep his grin off his face even now.

F'kyr's attention was drawn toward a group nearby celebrating loudly at their own table; new dragonriders like him, and they were faces he recognized. They were older candidates like himself, who had finally Impressed, but he was surprised to see that one of them was missing.

Kelthere approached the table, his back hunched and head down as though to hide his face. Even from his own table, F'kyr could tell that Kelthere's face was sickly pale, and over his father's cry for more wine for a toast, he could hear the worried inquiries of the other new weyrlings.

"Kelthere!" That would be the bluerider, Danak, or whatever his name was now.

"Are you okay?" a dark-haired girl asked worriedly, standing beside the other member of the group, Daradox-rider of a brown now, or so F'kyr had heard.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Kelthere replied with a small smile. "I just, the heat got to me. Happens more often than you'd think." He looked all of his friends over, the look in his eyes virtually unreadable. "So, I guess you all Impressed, huh?"

Danak only nodded, while the other two spoke up. "Brown Coendeth. I guess that makes me D'dox now." He said with a lopsided grin.

"And..." Kelthere turned his head to the girl, a blank look on his face.

"I'm Fylippa." She said as an introduction. "Green Asatarth."

Kelthere gave another small, sad smile. "Congratulations, you guys. Really, I'm happy for you."

"Kelthere-" Danak began, but the other one never let him finish.

"I'm fine!" It was almost a shout. Kelthere sighed. "Danak-D'nak." He corrected himself, biting his lip. "I'll...see you around, I guess." He seemed to ignore the others' protests as he strode away again.

Whether D'nak was frustrated with Kelthere or himself, F'kyr didn't know, but D'nak's ire was turned in his direction when the bluerider noticed him watching them. F'kyr turned away quickly, not in the mood for a confrontation, but to no avail.

"What do _you_ want? Come over to gloat at us about your bronze?" D'nak scowled.

Feeling his anger rise at the perceived insult, F'kyr rose from his seat, sneering. "Little blueriders shouldn't talk so to their betters."

D'nak narrowed his eyes and gave a disbelieving snort. "Only because you practically took that bronze from under Manoric's nose," he grumbled, turning away. F'kyr had the impression he wasn't actually supposed to hear that.

He blinked, casting his mind back to the memory of the Hatching. _Had_ Manoric been there by the bronze? F'kyr hadn't paid attention to anything around him then; once he locked eyes with Ievath, all he was concerned with was pushing his way through the crowd of hopeful candidates to get to him. He didn't notice or care who was around him or who he pushed aside; all that mattered was Ievath.

"What's going on here?" A rough, deep voice asked from behind them. F'kyr turned to see an extremely large, heavily-muscled man, face marred by a long, ragged scar on the side of his face. Staring down at them with a scowl, the man was a frightening giant. D'nak looked alarmed and wide-eyed from what F'kyr could see of him, and even F'kyr had to crane his neck up to look the stranger in the eye. "Nothing, sir," F'kyr's voice wavered only a little, he was pleased to discover, "Just a little disagreement. I think we're finished here."

The man harrumphed, "It had better be. You're new riders, aren't ye?" The man squinted down at them. "Name's K'rul, an' I'm yer Weyrlingmaster, so ye'd better watch yerselves around me."

They all muttered "Yes sirs" obediently, none of them wanting to be singled out by this rider.

"Ye'd better be getting to bed anyway. Ye'll have yer work cut out for ye tomorrow, ye'll want to get all the sleep ye can," the gruff Weyrlingmaster said; all the weyrlings disappeared.

"And it starts," F'kyr muttered under his breath as he made his way to the weyrling barracks.

(A/N: About W'ulf...I'm sorry, I couldn't resist!)


	4. Wandering Aimless

Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern belongs to Anne McCaffery, I make no claim to own it. This is a work of fanfiction which I make absolutely no money from. Though the world is borrowed, the plot and characters are all mine.

(A/N: Many thanks to my beta reader, AnimeEyeshime.

Well, the past month has pretty much been taken up completely by NaNoWriMo, but now that it's almost over, I should hopefully have more time to work on other things. As it is, however, I'm trying to juggle two fanfics as well as an original fiction novel, so writing will probably be fairly slow. I told you the updates would likely be somewhat sporadic. If it goes for, say, more than a month without an update, though, feel free to email me and tell me to get back on track, it usually helps to return my interest.)

* * *

**Who the Dragon Heeds**

**Chapter Four-Wandering Aimless**

He'd never expected this. Perhaps he should have; was that why he hadn't been chosen? Had he really been so arrogant that he never considered the chance that he might _not _Impress? Had he somehow repelled the dragons with his heady pretensions?

Kelthere had found himself in the infirmary after the Hatching. He still wasn't sure if it was actually because of the intense heat on the Hatching Sands or the sheer shock of not Impressing when he had been so sure he would. He couldn't stand to stay in there, though, so he got up and went ahead to the Post-Hatching Feast.

He meandered through the crowds of people, aimlessly at first, weaving past the well-wishers with his back hunched and eyes fixed on the ground at his feet. "Kelthere!" He heard someone shouting his name and was forced to raise his head.

Danak and the others were sitting at a table together, staring at him with disconcerted looks. A vaguely familiar girl sat beside Daradox, and she asked in a worried voice, "Are you okay?"

Kelthere forced a smile onto his face. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just--the heat got to me. Happens more often than you'd think." He stared back at them as though daring them to disagree with him. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet and, feeling suddenly like he had to say something, "So, I guess you all Impressed, huh?"

Kelthere saw Danak's nod, but it was Daradox who spoke up, "Brown Coendeth. I guess that makes me D'dox now."

Kelthere blinked. He hadn't even given a thought to that. He couldn't just call them Danak and Daradox any more. It felt like they were slipping away, like they weren't even his friends anymore. He gave a shake of his head. _That was stupid, stop thinking about it._ Instead, he turned his gaze to the girl blankly. "And…"

"I'm Fylippa. Green Asatarth." She said shortly.

He forced another smile to his face and ignored how false it felt. "Congratulations, you guys. Really, I'm happy for you."

Danak looked as though he wanted to say something. "Kelthere-"

"I'm fine!" He said it louder than he meant to, and hoped nobody else had noticed. He sighed. Suddenly, he just didn't want to deal with this anymore. "Danak-" _No, it's D'nak now, remember?_ He bit his lip and continued. "D'nak. I'll see you around, I guess." The others tried to call him back and convince him to stay, but all he really wanted was to be alone for now.

The Great Hall seemed too crowded and confined for him, so he hurried to get away, and found himself in the lower caverns. Since most everyone was at the Feast, it was mostly deserted, and he found an empty room to sit down.

Well, and what was he supposed to do now? The clutch had hatched and he was still alone. More alone, Kelthere thought as he remembered how all of his friends had Impressed and become dragonriders, than he had ever been before. The junior weyrwoman's dragon wouldn't clutch for another two years, and by then he would definitely be too old to Impress a dragon. He supposed he could just stick around in the Weyr for awhile…

But really, how long could he keep that up? He wouldn't be content to just work in the Lower Caverns for the rest of his life, surrounded by dragonriders while not having that chance himself, and he didn't want to feel useless. He wanted to _do _something with his life. He just didn't know what yet.

His thoughts turned to his home, remembering the taste of salt in his mouth and the reek of fish in the air, and he scowled. No! He would never go back to the fishing Hold. He hated it there, and even the problem of not Impressing wouldn't make him return. Hadn't he vowed the day he was searched, that he would never go back if he could help it?

He heard the sound of someone shuffling by outside, and Kelthere lifted his head. A younger boy passed the entrance and, seeing that someone was inside, he stepped into the room. Kelthere blinked when he realized it was Manoric.

"Hey," the younger candidate said. "I heard you didn't Impress, either." He plopped down against the wall next to Kelthere.

That, of course, was obvious, so Kelthere didn't bother to answer him. Manoric continued unperturbed, "You should know, it's not the end of the world. No one's going to kick you out of the Weyr if you want to stay, are they?"

Kelthere gave the other boy a look. "Probably not, but…" He just sighed and gave a half-hearted shrug. "At least you'll have more chances to Impress."

Shifting uncomfortably beside him, Manoric frowned. "Well, yes, but even that's no guarantee that I will Impress eventually. But even if that happens, I won't spend all my time moping around about what I missed. If I don't Impress, I'll go back home to my parents' Beasthold," he said with a shrug. "Do you have any idea what you're going to do now?"

Kelthere shook his head, causing Manoric to frown again. "Well, do you have any useable skills, like, tanner work or singing ability, or something--or do you plan to stay in the Weyr?"

Kelthere paused thoughtfully for a moment before answering. "Not really, no…unless you count fishing." He scowled. After nineteen years, he was thoroughly sick of anything having to do with fish.

Manoric's brow rose skeptically. "There's got to be _something_ you're good at," he insisted.

He'd never really thought about it before, and that was the problem. "Don't you want to go to the Feast?" he asked pointedly.

Manoric gave a frown. "I could ask the same about you." Then he sighed and gave a defeated shrug. "See you later."

Kelthere watched him leave, but he didn't stay in that room alone for much longer. He stood up, grabbing onto the wall for balance, and started wandering through the halls. The Feast couldn't be over already, but it seemed like the Great Hall was getting too crowded for some people. Every so often, he passed groups of revelers and weyrfolk. Not paying much attention to where he was going, he ran into a familiar face; unfortunately, not a welcome one.

Kelthere scowled at the sight of F'kyr staring at him arrogantly, and wondered somewhat enviously how the other candidate had managed to Impress a bronze when he, Kelthere, had not Impressed at all. "What do you want?" he asked tiredly.

F'kyr's face twisted into a sneer. "Poor babeling didn't Impress, huh? Get over yourself, Kelthere."

He had not been in a good mood to start with, and F'kyr's comment sent him over the edge. He didn't even care anymore that F'kyr was a bronzerider now; Kelthere lashed out with a cry and tackled the other boy to the ground. At first, F'kyr was taken by surprise, but once he recovered, he gave as good as he got and it degenerated into a wrestling match.

They punched, kicked, and did everything they could to hurt the other. Kelthere rammed an elbow into F'kyr's side, while the other retaliated by aiming a punch that connected with Kelthere's left eye.

"_What_ in Faranth's name is going _on_ here?" The bellowing voice drew their attention away from each other, and they broke apart. The burly Weyrlingmaster K'rul stood glaring down at them irately.

Straightening up, F'kyr was the first to control himself, and in a cool, calm manner, he said in an affronted voice, "This candidate just attacked a dragonrider!"

Fortunately for Kelthere's sake, K'rul wasn't convinced. "And I doubt he was completely unprovoked." He pointed a finger at F'kyr. "Ye may be a rider now, but there's a whole lot that comes with it that ye still have to learn. _Especially _since ye're a bronzerider. Try makin' people respect ye instead of just fearing ye." F'kyr hung his head, eyes narrowed angrily, and K'rul turned his gaze to Kelthere. "And _ye_ could use some lessons in holdin' yer temper as well. The two of ye can help each other clean up the Great Hall first thing tomorrow morning."

Grimacing, Kelthere gave a snort and walked away. Behind him, he could hear F'kyr trying to argue with the Weyrlingmaster, but he was not having any success. He fingered his left eye gingerly. It was tender, and no doubt would be purple by tomorrow. He supposed he'd better go and get cleaned up.

* * *

D'nak stumbled back to the candidates' barracks later that night, tired and worn out (okay, and perhaps he'd had just a _bit_ too much wine). He'd realized that he needed to retrieve his things from his old room before returning to the weyrlings' barracks and Taimosuth. A smile came unbidden to his lips at the thought of the dragon hatchling. He still found it hard to believe that he had Impressed, that Taimosuth hadn't chosen one of the other candidates instead.

He halted in the entrance to the barracks. "Faranth's egg, Kelthere, what happened to _you_?"

His friend gave a nonchalant shrug. His bruises and cuts didn't seem to bother him too much, at least. "F'kyr was mouthing off. Again. We got into a fight." He sat down on his bed with his back to D'nak.

D'nak grinned at that. "Well, I hope he looks a lot worse than you do, then," he said lightly.

Kelthere grunted and whispered so as to avoid waking the other candidates who were already asleep, "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I came to get my stuff," D'nak said hesitantly. He found his own bed beside Kelthere's and started gathering his possessions—clothes, mementoes and other personal effects. "So…any idea what you're going to do now?"

"Sleep." Kelthere grunted as he pulled the furs over his head.

D'nak scowled. "That's not what I meant and you know it!" he whispered furiously. Kelthere didn't answer, but he was lying too still to be asleep. With a sigh, D'nak gave up. "Fine then. Whatever." He gathered up his stuff and left.

As D'nak entered the weyrling barracks, he felt a light brush on his mind. After a moment, he realized it must be Taimosuth waking up. _"Mine? Are you there?" _the blue hatchling asked sleepily.

D'nak rushed over to his dragon. The dragon bed was conveniently placed right at the foot of his own human-sized bed. Taimosuth looked amusingly tiny nestled in the big dragon bed, but D'nak figured that he would grow into it quickly. "I'm here," D'nak said in a low voice. Then he remembered that riders were supposed to be able to talk to their dragons without words, and he tried it. _"I'm sorry if I woke you."_

"_It's okay." _There was a pause before Taimosuth spoke again. _"Is there something on your mind? You're upset."_

D'nak sighed. It seemed his new companion was quite perceptive. _"It's nothing, really. Kelthere--my friend--is just being a dimglow."_ He hoped Kelthere got over it soon; Taimosuth was wonderful, but he still missed his best friend, even if they hadn't been separated that long. As bad as not Impressing a dragon was, there had to be something that would cheer Kelthere up and send him back to his old self.

"_Okay."_ Taimosuth seemed unperturbed. _"Love you."_

"_Love you too." _But Taimosuth was already fast asleep again. With a shrug, D'nak fell onto his bed and decided he might as well do the same.

(A/N: By the way, mind-talk is in quotes because I use italics a lot for personal thoughts and wanted to differentiate between the two. I'm aware that the normal method is to just italicize the dragon's thoughts; I simply thought I'd try to cut out confusion.


	5. Reflections

Disclaimer: The Dragonriders of Pern belongs to Anne McCaffery, I make no claim to own it. This is a work of fanfiction which I make absolutely no money from. Though the world is borrowed, the plot and characters are all mine.

(A/N: BTW, this chapter has NOT gone through my beta-reader, so please excuse any mistakes there may be.)

* * *

**Who the Dragon Heeds**

**Chapter Four-Reflections**

Kelthere woke up the next morning sore all over, and he began to regret last night's fight with F'kyr. As he got ready, he only hoped the new dragonrider was feeling as bad this morning as he was.

It was early enough that the Great Hall was empty. Even the cooks and drudges hadn't started making breakfast quite yet, and the rest of the Weyr was still sleeping off last night's festivities and wine.

Kelthere found that F'kyr was already waiting for him, a sour look on his face. Kelthere took a savage pride in the fact that F'kyr was walking with an obvious limp.

F'kyr glanced over at him as he arrived and scowled. "Come on, Kelthere, you're not leaving me to do all this by myself."

"I thought slacking off was more like something you'd do," Kelthere shot back. F'kyr didn't answer, just raised an eyebrow skeptically and tossed a broom to Kelthere while he went to fill a bucket with water.

They worked side by side without a word for awhile, but the silence was starting to get to Kelthere. "What's that Weyrlingmaster like?" he found himself asking.

F'kyr shot him a look of annoyance, but all the same, he replied, "An ass."

Kelthere snorted despite himself. "Thread must be falling in _between;_ we actually seem to agree on something."

"If you were anyone but your aggravating and unpleasant self, I'd almost envy your not having to deal with him as often." F'kyr found a wet washcloth colliding with the side of his head before he could say anymore.

The physical activity made the time go by faster, and they didn't make much more conversation until they had finished.

F'kyr straightened up and, leaning against one of the long tables, looked at Kelthere. "Alright, Kelthere," the bronzerider said with a sigh, "I know you don't like me much, and I can assure you I don't think much of you either--" Kelthere bit back a smirk; he doubted F'kyr cared about anyone he met, unless it was in a mirror. "--but I don't particularly want to spend more time like this, either.

"K'rul's not going to just ignore me trading insults with you and provoking each other, he'll make my life more difficult. How about we go our separate ways from now on and ignore each other."

Kelthere almost gave an incredulous snort, but F'kyr was being fully serious.

"You and your other friends stop looking to pick fights and spitting out insults, and I'll do the same to you." F'kyr added.

Well, this was a strange turn of events. He shifted his weight from leg to leg uncomfortably and answered F'kyr with a nod. "As long as you leave us alone."

F'kyr gave a nod of his own. "Fine." He turned to leave the Great Hall, but a familiar, massive form was standing in the nearest doorway.

Kelthere and F'kyr both gave a start in surprise as the Weyrlingmaster came towards them. He just looked around at their work and gave a satisfied nod of his head. "That'll do. Ye two can get outta here now so the drudges can get to their work."

Kelthere left gladly enough, and F'kyr was about to do the same, when K'rul spoke out again and stopped him. "Wait a bit longer, bronzerider." F'kyr reluctantly stopped and turned to face the Weyrlingmaster.

The man's brown-gold eyes stared into F'kyr's own, and they seemed to be calculating. "Do ye know why bronzeriders are so important?"

"Because they ride bronze dragons?" F'kyr said, not entirelyserious, and by the narrowing of K'rul's eyes, he supposed it was the wrong answer.

"Bronzeriders are supposed to be the leaders of the Weyr. It's expected of them. And a leader is not going to be a good one if he doesn't have the respect of the other riders—and other Weyrfolk. The bronzeriders are the ones that help the Weyrleaders and lead the Wings. They're also an example for all the rest of the riders. Which _means_," K'rul added with a pointed look at the young bronzerider, "That there's going to be a lot of people that are gonna have their eyes on ye and how ye behave. And they're gonna remember it, for a long, long time." With a final pat on the shoulder, K'rul left F'kyr alone to think about that.

* * *

Syderi woke up earlier than she desired the next morning, and with a groan, reluctantly opened her eyes. A mound of gold hung over her head as Feyth stared down at her curiously. _"If you are awake now, I'm dreadfully hungry and really can't wait. If you please?" _The dragon said, not without an edge of irony in her 'voice'. 

Syderi's mouth formed into an 'O' as she gasped. "Oh, Feyth! I'm sorry."

The gold dragon sat back, her eyes whirling softly with pleasure now. _"It is alright."_ And just like that, all was forgiven.

Syderi couldn't hold back her grin. She quickly climbed out of bed and got dressed. In the female weyrling barracks, the other girls were doing the same as their dragons woke them up with their hungry pleadings. A few of the green dragons wandered about and batted playfully at each other, but for the most part, they stuck close to their riders, impatient for food.

With one hand resting lightly on Feyth's back, Syderi found Coyota in the throng of dragons and riders approaching the doors of the barracks. Coyota (whose green Oritith was one of the dragons in a playful mood this morning) waved cheerfully at her. "Good morning!" she said.

Syderi returned her greeting with a nod, then asked, "Where are we supposed to go to feed these empty bellies, anyway?" She patted Feyth's neck, who gave a snort.

Coyota pointed to the doors again. They were now close enough for Syderi to see outside into the Weyrbowl, where several servants were helping the Weyrlingmaster set out buckets of pre-sliced meat for the hatchlings. The Weyrlingmaster gave a smile once all of the dragons and riders were outside, and directed them toward the buckets of meat.

"The Weyr tradition is that on the first day, ye get a break. But after this, ye get to prepare the meat yerself," the Weyrlingmaster told them.

Syderi glanced around to see how the girls (and the boys, who had joined them) reacted to this piece of news. Several of the girls, as well as a few of the boys, looked faintly ill as they watched their dragons devour the raw meat. Beside her, Coyota gave a snort of derision at their expressions.

"They'll get used to it soon enough, if they expect to keep their dragons fed."

Feyth paid absolutely no attention to them as she devoured her second meal ever. She was not a particularly fastidious eater; before long, her jaws and talons were stained a deep red, giving her a frightful appearance, though once the food was gone, she began to lick the blood from her hide in an almost feline-like fashion.

Many of the other dragons were no less messy, and once the dragons had finished their meals, the weyrlings were led toward the lake to wash and oil their dragons. Having finished their meal, the dragons were already getting tired again, and began to become sluggish and lazy. Feyth grumbled as Syderi began to rub the oil onto her hide.

"_Can't I go to sleep now? I'm tired,"_ she complained.

"_No, you may not. You're a bit too large to carry back to the barracks easily. Be patient please, this shouldn't take much longer,"_ Syderi replied.

Reluctantly, Feyth said, _"As you wish."_

Coyota seemed to be having a similar conversation with Oritith beside her. "Come on, now, stay awake. No, I will not carry you back to the barracks, you spoiled thing." There was a pause, and then Coyota burst out with a laugh. "Light as a feather, are you? Hardly, after you've just been stuffed full of meat."

Syderi and Coyota managed to coax their sleepy dragons back to their beds. Now that the dragons were taken care of, they had some free time to do as they wished before more lessons, and Syderi decided to find Kelthere and talk to him, for she hadn't seen him since Impression. As she left the weyrling barracks, she passed Nystai—who was carrying a soundly sleeping Polaenth in her arms with a sheepish smile.

Truth be told, Syderi was at a loss for where to find Kelthere. The other boys in the candidate barracks told her that he had gotten up early that morning for some chore, but they hadn't seen him since. She really didn't know him well enough, however, to know where he would have gone.

She wandered through the halls, visiting the library, the Weyrbowl, and the Lower Caverns in search of him without success. She finally found him in the Great Hall, and he was not alone.

Syderi had been in the Weyr for the better part of six months, and she could recognize most of the people she had been a candidate with by face if not by name. D'nak and D'dox she had no trouble recognizing, and she was not surprised that they had paid Kelthere a visit. The girl beside D'dox, she was not as sure about; she was a quiet, unobtrusive girl who had not shown any particular interest in making friends, and thus had stayed very much in the background.

"Come on, Kelthere, you've been avoiding us since the Hatching," D'nak was saying, "You're not going to keep this up forever, are you?"

Kelthere appeared to be trying to ignore his friend as he drained a cup of klah. Frustrated, D'nak finally gave up. "Fine then. Be that way," he said as he stalked off. D'dox gave Kelthere a searching look before leading his new friend away.

Syderi blinked. Apparently she'd chosen a bad time to visit Kelthere. She considered leaving the Great Hall discretely, but then Kelthere noticed her standing there. His eyes widened. "Syderi! I didn't notice you," he said. He flashed her a quick grin, but then it was gone again. "What are you doing here?"

She gave a shrug. "Oh, I was just wandering around and saw you and your friends," she said, and then paused hesitantly.

Kelthere's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, sorry, I guess I'm just not in a friendly mood right now." He drummed his fingers on the table and grinned again. "So, how are you doing?"

Syderi couldn't help but grin. "Wonderful. You should meet Feyth sometime, I'm sure she'd love you," she said, half-teasingly.

Kelthere's face, however, went blank. "Yeah, maybe."

Syderi realized what he must be thinking about, and sat down beside him. "Hey, there's always the next clutch. Alerra told me her Vesengarth's supposed to rise in about a year from now-"

"No," Kelthere interrupted her. "Not for me. I'll be twenty-one by the time the next clutch hatches," he explained.

Syderi nodded in understanding. High Reaches Weyr's candidate age limit cut off at 20. "At least you'll be able to go home and see your family. They must miss you."

Kelthere snorted at that. "Not likely. I'm a middle child in a large group of brothers and sister, and not their favorite, either. Trust me, I don't miss my home hold."

Syderi pursed her lips. Why did he have to make everything so hard? There was a faint stirring at the back of her mind. She guessed that Feyth was waking up again. "I've got to go take care of Feyth. See you around, Kelthere. Maybe we can meet up sometime," she asked hopefully.

Kelthere gave her another smile that disappeared as he stood up. She almost wished he would stop doing that; his smiles were beginning to seem false. "Yeah, maybe. If you're not too busy with your dragon and your fellow riders, that is." He walked away and left her standing there.

* * *

(A/N: Yes, I know it's been a long time since the last update. I've finally decided to do what I probably should have done from the start; I'm going to concentrate on finishing the story before worrying about getting anymore chapters out. I hate knowing I promised an update and then letting it fall for months at a time while people are patiently waiting on it. Well, assuming anyone's still waiting... 

This doesn't mean I intend on abandoning the story; I have a clear idea of how the story's gonna go, I just need to write it. I'd much prefer to start posting the story online once I have it actually finished and I _know_ that I won't have people waiting ridiculously long amounts of time because I haven't written anything. Plus, there are a few small things I still want to change in the chapters already out.

Once I finish the writing, I'll start posting chapters again as they're edited, and it won't take so long. Until then, be patient please. If I should get to the point where I am _sure _I can get chapters out on a regular schedule, I might start updating early, but for now, _Who the Dragon Heeds_ is going on a hiatus.)


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